


One

by Eonneo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hive Mind, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eonneo/pseuds/Eonneo
Summary: “You're lost.”“...Am I?” The words croaked out.“I think so. Where are you?”I inhaled sharply.“I don't know.”The figure nodded, and smiled.“So you're lost.”I opened and closed my hands in nervousness, letting my eyes wander from the figure to the beige carpet.“It's alright.”.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	One

**Author's Note:**

> It's me, back. Since we're all in quarantine (thought I'm still working), I figured, why not give y'all something to enjoy? Though this is a bit different than my usual stuff.
> 
> Something different!
> 
> I left both the reader (though in first person) and the hive mind figure gender less and with little description so you can imagine yourself, or whoever you want. I always worry the vagueness may do more harm than good, but I think it works.
> 
> Anyway, I've looked this over twice now. I'm going to look it over tomorrow too, but I really wanted to post it, so excuse any errors, I'll do my best to correct them. I was worried I wouldn't make my goal where it has to be 2,000 words or above, but after 1000 words it just flowed.
> 
> And enjoy.

I slunk through the ruins of an old house, the smell of mildew flooding me. Even in hiding, I had to take note of how dead the world had become. The temperature was cold, my body was stiff and I felt miserable. The surrounding yard I had entered from was brown and dry, flaking beneath my feet.  
I searched the house for anything of use. Food. Water. Clothing. I found a few trinkets, tossing them into my bag, though nothing of substance that would help me live another day. I was despairingly low on all supplies, and had maybe another days worth if I really stretched them.  
Outside the remains of the old house, I paced up the crumbling road. It went on for a while, until I came upon a dirt path that dipped sharply into the woods. I stood there at the entrance, looking down into the darkness of brush and dying trees, and pondered if it would be a good idea to explore it.  
Figuring I had little to lose, I began down it, my feet dragging on the ground. It carried on for some time, every passing meter looking the same as the one before it. I was nearly ready to turn around when a clearing opened, and I found a small stretch of grass, somehow still alive, green. At the other end of it rested another house, though in suspiciously good shape compared to the rest of the houses in the area. I stared at it, hidden still. How was the house standing in such quality shape? The grass was bright and alive, and I noticed the branches of a tree sprouting from behind it.  
I thought that maybe, having been so hidden, it hadn't been touched. Maybe it was full of supplies. Maybe some vagrant had made it home.  
Maybe.  
I felt so drawn to it, desperate to be within its walls, and at the same time felt a lingering hesitation that ate at my skull. I couldn't understand the conflicting feelings I had. Why was I hesitant? It was just a house, a simple brick building like many others I had been in.  
Wasn't it?  
Even hesitant, I found my feet stepping over the soft grass, a cold breeze wafting between the trees, pushing me further towards the other side. Once there, the building's two-story figure looming over me, I simply stopped, taking it in.  
It was residential, and not much else. Likely the home of some long gone family. The sides were free of moss and dirt, and it looked as if someone had taken immaculate care of it.  
I was scared of that thought, for some reason. I wanted to turn around. I wanted to leave and never see the building again. The longer I stood, the more consternation I felt. How was this house here? Why?  
I stepped up to the wooden door, the frame fraying slightly. I ran my fingers down it, feeling the splinters, until they came across the cold metal of the doorknob. I again hesitated, then took a deep breath, opening it. It screeched on its hinges, echoing behind me. My body shivered.  
Inside was neat, and cozy. A hallway, with a door to the right, one to the left, and a kitchen visible at the back. A staircase was at the left side of the hall. What was most notable and horribly off-putting were the bright, glaring lights above me.  
I stumbled backwards and glanced around the outside of the house. There were no electric poles. Even if there were, electricity was rare in the world. Not even big cities had any left, but to find it in a random house in the middle of the woods? The pieces did not come together.  
Even so, I felt myself trying to fit into the puzzle. The house, it called to me. And with little thought, I stepped in, closing the door behind me. The house smelled stale, the air within it unmoving.  
I walked to each of the doorways and looked in. A dining room, with a grandfather clock that didn't tick and a table with six chairs, connected to the kitchen, and a sitting space with a couch and a table. The decor was out of the 80's, with wood paneling on the walls.  
I looked at the stairs, and decided to climb them. They creaked under my weight. At the top of the stairs, it simply had a hall with a doorway that opened into a larger room.  
Out of place was a bed on the room's carpet, with no base. The sheets and blanket were a navy blue and neatly made. Otherwise, it was empty.  
I blinked. A shadow stood in the corner. I blinked again, and it appeared as a person, stepping from said shadows. I wanted to simultaneously run and stand still. My bag that had my few supplies dropped to the floor.  
The figure, I immediately noticed, was immensely attractive. I would almost describe it as ideal for myself, all its features pleasing to me. I felt awestruck.  
“Hello,” it said to me, its voice smooth.  
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out, the words lingering on the warm air.  
“You're lost.”  
“...Am I?” The words croaked out.  
“I think so. Where are you?”  
I inhaled sharply.  
“I don't know.”  
The figure nodded, and smiled.  
“So you're lost.”  
I opened and closed my hands in nervousness, letting my eyes wander from the figure to the beige carpet.  
“It's alright.”  
The figure began to slowly step to me, its footsteps silent. I stepped backwards a few steps myself. The heavy feeling of being drawn to it, while being terrified, was aching in my muscles and mind.  
“I can help you.”  
“I don't need help,” I stuttered.  
“But you admitted you were lost.”  
It continued to walk towards me.  
“I'll find my own way.”  
“Maybe. Or you'll find yourself even further lost.”  
“That's my mistake to make,” I replied.  
The figure now stood in front of me, looking down at me with eyes I thought looked hollow. Even so, I found I couldn't look away from them, almost entranced.  
The figure then held a hand up to me, slowly letting it ease to my hip. I felt my heart skip, and my breath left my lungs. I kept screaming at myself internally to run. To leave. To question everything going on in that moment. The arrival to the house.The figure.  
But there was no reasoning with what was happening to me.  
Its other hand rested at my hips, and it pulled me close. I smelled a familiar scent, something comforting, but I could not place it. It infatuated me.  
“You'll be okay,” the figure promised in a hushed tone.  
And I believed it.  
The figure pulled me in to it, placing one hand to my shoulder blades and the other to my lower back. Its arms tightened, enveloping me, and I let my head rest at its chest.  
We stood there, and I breathe slowly, taking in the scent and conflicting feelings. I felt scared. I felt reassured. I felt comfortable.  
“Do you feel better?” it asked.  
I didn't respond.  
“It's okay. You will.”  
The figure placed a kiss at my forehead. It was quick. It placed another, dotting the kisses to my cheek, its hands tightening their grip on my body. Soon, its lips were to mine, and at that moment I felt my instincts completely diminish, lost in the warm feelings that enveloped me.  
It pulled back, temporarily, and said, “You'll be okay.”  
I felt a hand tangle into my hair, my head leaning back with it, as the figure moved its lips to my neck, speckling kisses across it, sometimes mixed with a sharp bite. It was causing a heated feeling within me, almost primal, and I found myself desperately craving more of the figure in front of me. I wanted it to take every aspect of myself.  
I gasped at that feeling, breaking free of its grip, taking in greedy breaths. I knew what it was doing. I knew this trick. I knew what had become of the world, and I knew that would be me next if I didn't leave.  
“Why don't you want this? You felt good, didn't you?” the figure questioned, a faint smile on its face. I began to shake, violently, nerves wracking in my skull.  
“Don't worry. You'll be fine. All this running and surviving will be over. You'll be safe.”  
My vision blurred some, and I held my hands out in front of me, my fingers twitching, flexing into my palms. I couldn't figure what was wrong with me, the feelings twisting in my stomach.  
The figure outstretched his hands to take mine, sliding up to my wrists, pulling me back in. I couldn't stop shaking, until the figure put a hand to my head, placing it to its chest. And I heard a heartbeat, just as human as my own, and slowly, my body calmed.  
“You want this, right?” It sounded like a question, but I knew it was a statement. A stern one. A statement I couldn't find myself replying to.  
The figure took my upper arms, leading me away from the doorway I had been in so long, As it did this, it made sure to caress me, placing an occasional kiss on my forehead. We went to the bed, where the figure gently urged me to sit upon it. I clutched the fabric sheets tightly, my eyes focusing again on the carpet.  
The figure came to its knees in front of me, a bit over my own body, and again its hands wandered on my body, groping it. Its lips met mine, passionately kissing me, its tongue sliding its way into my mouth. It tasted, barely, of alcohol, and I nearly thought I would get intoxicated on it.  
Taking hold of my hips, moving me further up the bed, the figure crawled on top of me, pressing its hips to mine, ravishing my neck with its teeth between kissing. My hands clawed at its biceps, up to its back, underneath the thin fabric of its shirt.  
“You will be okay,” it again promised in a hushed breath that felt hot against my skin. And I truly believed it, though I had a dark feeling it wasn't truly myself that felt that.  
Sitting up, the figure took my ragged shoes off, tossing them to the side. It took hold of the waistband of my pants, and I shivered again. The figure stopped for a moment, but then continued, and I didn't fight it. My lower half became bare to it, its fingers teasing my thighs.  
The figure unbuttoned its own pants, pulling them down. I was more focused on the ceiling of the house, lost in my own swirling thoughts of self deprecation and longing. The figure wanted my entire attention on it though, shifting its arms under mine, tugging at my hair, letting its tongue explore me.  
With a slow movement, I felt it enter me, and immediately a wave of bliss fell over me. It just felt _good_ , and I gasped, my nails digging into its soft flesh. It let out a soft moan against my neck, nipping my jawline then letting its tongue soothe it.  
It thrust, slowly, letting me acclimate to it. I just wanted more, though, and my hips bucked against its own.  
“Let me do this for you,” it insisted softly, and I found myself obeying, letting it slide in and out of me. My breath quickened with every movement, the bliss still not enough to satisfy me. I just kept wanting more, desperate to feel an ounce of pleasure, realizing how depraved of touch and care I had been.  
The figure would speed up some, then slow, and it would repeat the process. I would feel myself at the edge, just to be taken away.  
“You feel good,” the figure assured me.  
The figure, moving quicker, lifted itself up some to hang over me, its chest above my head. As it sped, I could feel myself coming to the edge of excitement, my muscles tensing. With a few more movements, it hit me, my hands grasping at the figure's back, my teeth gritting. It was intense.  
As I came down from it, I felt my mind beginning to haze, and I knew in that moment what was happening. My vision blurred, my breathing shallow. The figure moved to the side of me and wrapped its arms around me.  
“You'll be okay,” it promised. “You're not lost.”  
And the figure was right. I felt myself falling into a mass of belonging, my consciousness losing itself to a thousand different emotions. To voices.  
And for the first time, I felt okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!


End file.
